


Calming Down

by KerryBear



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, M/M, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3165374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KerryBear/pseuds/KerryBear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Rocket fight over their most recently failed mission, and Rocket's anxiety only gets in the way. Through a veil of anger and intense nervousness, an issue is confronted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calming Down

Peter stormed into the Milano, glaring ahead as he stomped in. Following him was an equally, if not more, angry Rocket, slamming the door behind him as he entered.

"Well,  _that_ was a fucking disaster," Peter complained, slumping over as he sat on the couch in their main living quarters. 

"Ugh-- Yeah, it was. Y'know, it wouldn't have happened if you knew how to shoot your goddamned gun. Learn how to fucking aim," Rocket growled back.

Peter rolled his eyes, trying to keep his own temper down. It was rare for him to get this heated. They had just gotten back from a mission that was supposed to be incredibly easy; it was a simple bounty job, and the guy they were supposed to catch wasn't known for being difficult. He was well-known for being an incredibly sloppy criminal, and it should have been an easy job. Gamora expected them to have the reward in no time, so she and the rest of the crew had gone into the city, leaving Peter and Rocket to take care of the issue. However...

" _My_ aim was off? You delayed your damn shots for fucking three months while he ran away, what the fuck were you starin' at? You just zoned out and left me tryin' to get him myself!" Peter countered.

...Complications arose. It wasn't especially either one of their faults. They both had messed up and let an easy criminal get away, but tensions were way higher than usual between the dynamic duo.

Rocket leered at Peter. He knew he wasn't blameless in the entire affair; he was smart enough to recognize his mistakes. But he was far too prideful to ever admit that he had done something wrong. Especially given what his issue was.

"What was I 'staring' at? Nothin'! Y-You're just makin' shit up to get me off your back! Quit lying to cover your stupidity, dumbass," he spat out, snarling his teeth a little. 

Peter buried his face in his hands, then ran his hands through his wavy hair, trying to calm himself and keep himself from saying anything he would regret. He stood up, and paced back and forth, but he was still having trouble calming down. It really wasn't often that he got this heated, and it took some getting used to. He knew Rocket would only get angrier if he kept yelling though, and until they both calmed down, they wouldn't be able to get this whole thing over with. He took a deep breath and sighed before speaking.

"Okay-- Look. Maybe my aim was off. It was hard to shoot, especially since we weren't supposed to kill him. I mean, y'know, unless you forgot about that," Peter said, trying to mask his passive-aggression, before continuing, "but I still haven't heard any decent excuse from you. What was your deal?" He asked, trying to sound considerate about it.

Rocket's ears dropped slightly for a moment while he hesitated. Peter could have sworn he even saw his expression soften a little before he went back to glaring. 

"I--I dunno what you mean. I, er... I genuinely don't think I did anything wrong."

"You sound pretty hesitant about that, man, I dunno... C'mon. I'm not gonna be any more mad than I've been, so you may as well tell me."

His tail twitched in frustration. Rocket knew that wasn't true; Peter would just laugh at him or be absolutely fucking pissed. Or at least, that's what he thought. To him, the truth was not something he ever wanted to say to anyone. 

"Look, even if I did do anything wrong, it's not anything I could tell you, so fuck off. But I didn't do anything, so just drop it..." He said, getting decreasingly angry and increasingly sad. His gaze was fixated on the ground, looking anywhere but Peter's face. 

Peter's expression softened a little too. "Rocket..." He pushed, gently this time. He looked at him sympathetically.

"Please, just drop it, Quill..." 

"No, Rocket, if there's something bothering you, then we gotta talk about it, whether it's about the job or not." He gestured to the seat next to him on the couch for Rocket to sit down. "And anyway, it wasn't that big of a reward... Gamora can deal with it. Just sit down, I can try and help you," He reassured, maintaining strong eye contact, sympathetically trying to get Rocket to listen.

Rocket crossed his arms against his chest, reluctantly taking the seat next to Quill. He felt hot; he felt this way more often than he liked to. Like he was boiling, like a lobster. His skin felt itchy, hot, and he couldn't get himself to look Peter in the eye. His breathing started to get unsteady as he searched for the right words to say. 

"Y-Yeah, you're right, the reward was pretty shitty anyway... I, uh-- I guess I'm sorry I was calling you and your aim bad, 'n' stuff. That was r-rude of me, erm..." He stuttered out, pausing momentarily on each of his stutters, wishing he could take all of them back.

Peter smiled sweetly at Rocket, patting him on the shoulder. He tensed up immediately, as soon as he felt Peter's hand. His shoulder and back tightened, his agitation immediately noticeable. He took his hand off right away, as soon as he noticed the response.

"It's okay, Rocket. It's just a dumb job. There'll always be more. If you wanna tell me what's bothering you, then..." He paused, taking a second to make sure Rocket was okay and listening, processing what he had to say, "...that'd be cool, but, I understand if you, y'know-- If you don't wanna. Just-- Cheer up, bud." 

Rocket glared again for a moment, before letting it go. "I don't want your pity, y'know... I mean, I appreciate the sentiment, but come on," He went on for a moment, stopping before he seemed too ungrateful.

"Right, sorry," Peter quickly apologized, knowing Rocket was really trying to react positively. And honestly, he was pretty glad their fight was over, but he wanted Rocket to be happy.

The feeling still wouldn't go away. The skin under his fur made him shudder. He kept his arms crossed, hoping the feeling of them against each other would help ease his anxiety. He knew it didn't make any sense; nothing was making him feel this way besides his own mental reactions. It seemed like an unnecessary amount of physical reactions: uneven breath, intensely uncomfortable skin, racing heart, needless sweat, all the adrenaline. It all felt so needless, yet there was nothing he could do to stop it. It was all over something so stupid too. He struggled to find the words to explain the situation. He looked up at Peter, giving up on keeping it a secret. Peter knew something was wrong, and wouldn't give up until he knew, even if he spread out his efforts over a month if he had to. If Peter hated him, he hated him. And if not--

"L-Look, Pete. This is  _incredibly_ hard for me to put into words. Especially since, to be honest, I-I dunno how you're gonna react, so-- Ugh, just try not to be mad. Got it?" He looked up, practically begging Peter with his somewhat angry, yet more sad and scared, eyes.

"'Course, I'd never be ma--" 

"Okay, lemme, uhm-- Lemme finish, it's important--!" He interrupted, pleading with Peter. He nodded supportively, waiting for him to continue.

"It's just-- When I, uh-- What you said about me starin' off into space during that mission... It was kinda true. And, uh-- What I was starin' at--" He gulped heavily, fiddling with his hands, looking away, dreading Peter's response, "was-- w-was  _you._ " 

He stared at Rocket, a somewhat puzzled expression on his face. "Me?" 

"Yes, you! Don't be mad, ugh, it's just--"

"I don't get it, why were ya starin' at me, what d'you mean?" 

Rocket buried his face in his hands, running them up his head in intense frustration, feeling his face go red under his fur. "Oh my God, I was staring at you b-because I fucking like you, you dumbass. Like, romantical, 'n' stuff-- A-And I get it, if that pisses you off, o-or if you want me to leave, or whatever, just fucking tell me and I'll go, I'm sorry for being a piece of shit," he ranted, on and on, his words getting faster and more slurred together as he lost track of himself, overwhelmed.

"Rocket--" Peter started.

"I mean, not only am I liability to the team, but I'm also a sick fucking pervert, what the fuck was I thinking? Fuck it-- I'm sorry, I-I'll just-- I'll let myself out," he finished, not stopping for Peter at all. Before he could get up to leave though, he felt a strong grip on his wrist.

"Wait, Rocket!" Peter said, looking Rocket in the eyes compassionately. Rocket looked back at him, trying to look away to hide the shameful tears in his eyes that stained his fur. 

"You seriously think I'd be mad at you for something like that? Dude-- I would never want you to leave the team. Everyone here loves you, Rocket!" Peter pleaded, tears starting to form in his eyes too.

"But-- What about you? I-I'm fucking gross for even talkin' about this to you, y-you should just kick me out--"

"Rocket--! Stop, dude-- Look, I-- I wasn't sure how to say it, but, here it is: I love you."

Rocket's ears perked up, his eyes widening. A quiet little voice came out of him this time. "...W-What...?"

"I  _love_ you. Like, hard. I didn't think you'd like me back, so I didn't say anything, but, if this is how you feel--" He continued, before he was cut off.

"Are you serious? Y-You're not just fuckin' with me or nothin'?" Rocket said, his voice shakier than usual, but it was obvious he was trying to maintain his composure.

"I don't fuck around with shit like this. I mean, not with you. Rocket, I've never felt more strongly about anyone than I feel about you. I thought it would go away after a month or so, but it's been almost a year and whenever I see you, I can't stop thinking about how cute you are and how happy I want to make you," He replied, placing his hand on Rocket's shoulder once more. It still tensed up, before after a moment it relaxed slightly.

"...You're really not fucking with me? You don't want me to leave or anything?" He still avoided eye contact; he felt himself calming down, but his heart was still racing as much as ever. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest. He swore he could hear it too. But his skin stopped crawling; he felt himself unwind, even if only a little.

"Look at me, Rocket." They looked into each other's eyes, both still a little teary, some more than others. "I love you. And I want to be with you, even if there are complications." He pulled Rocket into him slightly, letting Rocket rest his emotionally drained head on his shoulder.

"...Thanks..." Rocket mumbled, wiping his eyes discreetly as he leaned into Peter.

They stayed like that for a while, silently pondering what this meant for both of them-- for the team. 

But for the two of them, at that moment, what mattered to them was that they were together.

And for the first time, Rocket knew how it was to be with someone who didn't laugh at him. Who didn't belittle him.

Someone who didn't make him feel like an outsider. 

Someone who, for the first time? Didn't make him  _anxious._

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, this was actually kind of emotionally draining to write. I know it's not my most well written thing (out of like three things, shit) but I was feeling really stressed tonight about this. 
> 
> I placed an emphasis on the physical reactions to anxiety-- mainly what I experience almost every day. It can be very stressful. Sometimes I get so riled up and nervous that it literally hurts, and it feels like I'm actually boiling. 
> 
> And couple fights are so stressful, and I'm always so worried about-- Ugh, I dunno. Instead of me tellin' you all about it, just read this and infer what you can.
> 
> Sorry. It felt really erratic to write, and probably was tough to read as well-- I just had to vent somehow, and this stuff helps me. A lot. 
> 
> Thanks for readin'.


End file.
